Iliad Paper

In creating my final project, a website designed to embody peace, growth, and appreciation for life’s small moments, I was struck by how much this creative endeavor mirrored my worldview. As I reflect on the process of bringing this project to life, I realize that it doesn’t just represent an academic or artistic achievement, it’s also a visual expression of the same themes I explored in my very first college research paper on Homer’s Iliad. Though the subjects may seem worlds apart, both work, my website and my Iliad paper, trace a journey of transformation, struggle, and self-discovery. Both are, in essence, reflections of who I was and who I am becoming.

My website’s aesthetic choices are not random or simply decorative, they are rooted in my belief that slowing down and appreciating the present moment is essential for meaningful growth. The floral elements, for example, were meant to evoke nature’s quiet resilience and the beauty that can come from even the harshest environments. Flowers bloom after long winters. People grow through their seasons of hardship. This gentle, persistent hope is central to my worldview. Life will not always be easy, but every challenge we face shapes us into stronger, more thoughtful individuals. In this way, my website is not just a creative project, it’s a symbolic map of personal growth.

When considering my first research paper in college, an analysis of Achilles in The Iliad, I can see the beginning of this same worldview forming, though at the time, I might not have recognized it. I remember being deeply fascinated by Achilles not only as a warrior but as a person caught in the struggle between pride, pain, and purpose. My paper argued that Achilles’ journey is shaped by his experience of force, how it is used on him, and how he, in turn, uses it on others. Simone Weil’s concept of force as something that dehumanizes both the wielder and the victim was especially meaningful to me. Weil writes, “Force, in the hands of another, exercises over the soul the same tyranny that extreme hunger does.”(Weil, 1940, p. 5). This idea stuck with me, not only as a literary insight but as a truth about the human condition. We are all shaped by the forces that act upon us, and we are all capable of choosing how we respond.

Achilles, for much of the poem, responds with rage and withdrawal. He feels humiliated by Agamemnon’s disrespect and tries to regain control by stepping away from the war. “Achilles himself, that proud hero, the undefeated, is shown us at the outset of the poem, weeping with humiliation and helpless grief…” (Weil, 1940, p. 6). Achilles’ refusal to fight isn’t cowardice, it’s an expression of his wounded honor, his attempt to reclaim a sense of autonomy. This tension resonated with me as I worked on my website because I often wrestle with the idea of control, how much we truly have, and how much peace can come from letting go. In the end, Achilles returns to battle, not out of pride, but out of grief and a desire to honor his friend Patroclus. His transformation is not neat or perfect, but it is real. It reminds me that growth is often messy and that even our most painful moments can lead to clarity and change.

I was proud of my Iliad paper. It was the first real research assignment I had in college, and I poured a lot of thought and energy into it. I was especially interested in the philosophical underpinnings of honor, power, and transformation. Yet, despite how seriously I took the content, I forgot to include a works cited page. At the time, it felt like a major oversight, and I was frustrated with myself for missing such a key component after working so hard. But now, I look back at that mistake as an important reminder: growth isn’t linear, and there’s always room to improve. The act of forgetting to cite my sources taught me about responsibility and attention to detail, lessons that I carried into future assignments, and the construction of my website. Mistakes, just like challenges, are opportunities to reflect, adjust, and keep going.

Ultimately, both my website and my Iliad paper are tied together by a common thread: they represent my desire to understand the forces that shape us and the belief that we have the power to respond with purpose. I am constantly searching for meaning in the chaos, looking for ways to find peace in difficulty, to grow through discomfort, and to appreciate life not just for what it gives us, but for what it teaches us. My worldview is not about avoiding struggle; it’s about embracing it as a necessary and even beautiful part of the human journey. As I look ahead, I hope to continue to find value in the process, that beauty can be found in simplicity, and that personal growth is not only possible, but inevitable when we approach life with openness, humility, and intention.